


Falling out of Orbit

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Bottom Sherlock, Developing Relationship, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Top John, Watching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-15
Packaged: 2017-12-26 14:42:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John came home early from visiting family, the last thing he expected was to find Sherlock thinking of him this way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling out of Orbit

John sighed as he let himself into the flat. He was supposed to be gone all weekend, but a day with Harry was plenty. The comforting smells of Baker Street and the familiar steps eased the flare up in his knee as he made his way up to the flat, moving quietly as it was late and he didn’t want to wake Mrs. Hudson. His thoughts were on his own bed and he stifled a yawn as he opened the door to the flat. It was dark save the light from the street casting eerie shadows on the furniture. He shrugged out of his coat and hung it up, noticing Sherlock’s coat was in its place. Maybe Sherlock was asleep for once.

Turning down the hall, John headed for the bathroom, noticing Sherlock’s door open a crack. He put hand on the bathroom door handle when a low noise caught his attention. Frowning and knowing he was probably violating Sherlock’s privacy, John moved towards the door as quietly as he could. Not like Sherlock respected his privacy that much. Pushing the door just a bit wider, John stared at the sight before him.

Sherlock lay naked on his back, pale skin glowing faintly in the moonlight. His head tossed against the pillows, eyes screwed shut. One elegant hand was wrapped around his cock, stroking slowly. The other hand moved between the cleft of his cheeks. John blushed bright red and started backing up.

“John,” Sherlock moaned, freezing him in place.

Heart thumping against his chest, John closed his eyes and considered his options. He was home early, after all; no doubt Sherlock expected him back tomorrow. He could go on up to bed and pretend this never happened. He could hear Sherlock in the bedroom, shifting against the sheets and moaning quietly above the slick sounds his fingers were producing. The other choice, of course, was to go in and do something about the raging erection pressing against his jeans. There might be regret in the morning, but John had never been one to back down from a challenge.

Licking his lips and taking a breath, he pushed open the door. Sherlock had rolled onto his side, curling around himself and offering John an amazing view of his fingers sliding in and out of his arse. Sherlock added another one, clearly lost in the moment. “John,” he groaned again as he stretched himself wider.

John’s mouth was parched as he moved towards the bed, pausing to toe off his shoes. They clunked slightly against the floor. Sherlock turned towards him, eyes wide and hands stilled. “John,” he gasped, an edge of panic to his voice.

Quickly closing the gap between them, John crawled to Sherlock and cupped his face gently. He met Sherlock’s eyes, trying to let him see that it was okay. Leaning in, he kissed Sherlock gently. The man tensed, then slowly relaxed and opened his mouth to invite John in. John tasted the tang of chemicals and a hint of tea that had probably been Sherlock’s dinner.

Finally breaking the kiss, John placed a warm hand on the cool expanse of Sherlock’s chest and gave him a soft smile. “Good thing I came home early,” he said quietly, moving his hand lower until he wrapped his smaller hand around Sherlock’s, both of them encasing his cock.

Sherlock rocked his hips, eyes dark with lust as he panted and stared at John. “I want you too, Sherlock,” John said quietly, putting Sherlock’s other hand against the bulge in his jeans.

Letting go of his cock, Sherlock turned to free John while he pulled his shirt over his head. John got up just long enough to shuck the rest of his clothes, then climbed in between Sherlock’s legs, heart racing as he looked down at the vulnerable detective. He did want Sherlock, just like this.

Picking up the lube, he slicked himself before hooking his arms around Sherlock’s knees and lifting his hips. “Please, John,” Sherlock whispered, as if afraid that John would vanish into thin air.

John put a finger against Sherlock’s lips and shook his head, not wanting words to get in the way. He’d had never done this before, but the mechanics were plain enough. Sherlock dropped a hand to help guide him in. John groaned as he pushed past the tight ring of muscle; the tight and warm sensation nearly overwhelming. He paused, panting a long moment, before sliding himself deeper.

Sherlock rocked against him, all but begging for him to move. John leaned forward to kiss his flushed lips as he started slow at first, then faster, pulling his head back to watch Sherlock’s face. The other man’s eyes screwed shut again, and John watched, fascinated, as the tightly controlled Sherlock Holmes fell apart underneath him, moaning and writhing underneath John’s thrusts.

John closed his eyes a moment, listening to Sherlock’s breath and feeling his warmth around him. It felt perfect and right, the world narrowed to just the two of them, like it should be.  He opened his eyes again and tangled his hands in Sherlock’s hair, thrusting harder, feeling the building heat. Shifting his angle slightly he hit the prostate, making Sherlock’s eyes fly open as he cried out, hands grabbing at John’s forearms.

“I’ve got you,” whispered John. “I’m here.” He hit the spot again and Sherlock gave a loud cry as he came, covering his pale stomach with cum.

“Sherlock,” groaned John as his lover clamped tight around him. He came a heartbeat later, moaning into Sherlock’s shoulder as he filled him. He couldn’t remember an orgasm ever feeling this good. Sherlock cautiously put his arms around John’s broad shoulders. John smiled softly, starting to doze off already.

* * *

 

John woke on his stomach, head pillowed against his arms. It took a few groggy seconds for John to realize he was still in Sherlock’s bed. _Oh God_. He raised his head, but there was no sign of Sherlock. Sitting up he realized his clothes were gone too. _The bastard_.

Carefully he got up and looked out the bedroom door. Sherlock couldn’t be seen from here, but he was probably in the kitchen. Cursing internally, John slipped into the bathroom. Of course the towels and dressing gowns were gone too. What the hell was Sherlock playing at?

Taking a deep breath he went down the hallway. Sherlock was at the kitchen table, naked himself and sipping a cup of tea as he looked at John’s laptop. John took a breath and stepped into the room, self-consciously rubbing the scar on his shoulder. “Morning,” he said, going to pour himself a cuppa as well.

Sherlock ignored him for the moment, typing something. John sighed and sat down across from him, picking up the paper. He should go upstairs and get his clothes, but it seemed that there had to be some reason for the two of them to be sitting here like it was a normal weekend, just, without clothing.

Finishing his tea, John realized Sherlock was watching him. John slowly licked his lips as he dropped the paper. “Did you want to talk?”

Sherlock looked at him, then reached across and grabbed John’s shoulder, half-dragging him across the table for a bruising kiss. John groaned as his sudden erection pushed against the edge of the table, but he grabbed Sherlock’s hair and pulled him back the other way, kissing him just as hard before biting Sherlock’s lip, earning a moan.

He pulled away, looking at Sherlock’s eyes. It was different this morning. Daylight streamed into the flat; Sherlock’s hair still wild from the night before, eyes full of lust and desire. He knew in this moment, that last night wasn’t a fluke. Even if he hadn’t intended for John to see, he wanted him. And John wanted Sherlock just as badly. They’d been orbiting each other far too long; eventually gravity was going to take hold and drag them into a collision.

John let go and came around the furniture. He turned Sherlock and set him on the table, curling a hand in his hair and kissing him again, this time a bit more tenderly. Sherlock moaned and wrapped his legs around John’s hips, pulling him tight against him. John pulled his head back and cupped Sherlock’s cheek.  Sherlock met his eyes, searching. In that moment John knew that he loved him. Oh, he’d felt something for Sherlock long before last night and this morning. But now he knew beyond any doubt what it was. And he could see the same thing reflected in Sherlock’s eyes. With another smile he leaned in and kissed him again.

Sherlock moaned softly and wrapped his arms around John, holding him tightly. John ran soothing hands down Sherlock’s back, hearts beating in time. There was no need to say the words aloud, after all. John rested his head on Sherlock’s shoulder and closed his eyes, more content and happy than in years.

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [merindab.tumblr.com.](http://merindab.tumblr.com/)


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